


Whumptober Day 27/28 - Ransom & Beaten

by TexdoesHalo



Series: Whumptober - 2019 [24]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Beating, Captured, Chains, Fear, Forced to Kneel, Held at Gunpoint, Helplessness, Hospitalization, Hostage Situations, Hurt Rhys, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jack and Timtam to the rescue, Kidnapped Rhys, Kidnapping, M/M, Personal Assistant Rhys (Borderlands), Ransom, Rescue, Rhys is Handsome Jack's Personal Assistant, Scared Rhys, Threats of Violence, Torture, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019, beaten, restrained, sassy rhys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 05:06:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21230282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TexdoesHalo/pseuds/TexdoesHalo
Summary: This is the 3rd part of a story I began with my day 6 fic, the 2nd part is my day 10 fic.~While Jack is planning his rescue, Rhys continues to suffer in the hands of his captors. It is all he can do to not break as he waits desperately for someone to save him.





	Whumptober Day 27/28 - Ransom & Beaten

Consciousness came back to Rhys in pieces, a low groan escaping him as he distantly registered being dragged across the ground. The sudden flare of pain in his arms was what finally shocked him awake, eyes flying wide with an agonized cry.

Cold chains had been wrapped around his wrists, threaded through a hook in the ceiling and pulled, dragging him up to hang limply in the center of the dark room. Rhys hated it, but couldn’t stop himself from leaning into the strangely gentle touch caressing his abused cheek, the broken skin a sickening black and blue. Tears welled up in his left eye, the other swollen shut.

“You’re a lucky man, Rhys. Jack decided to pay up! We’ll be moving you soon but first-”

A fist slammed into his already aching stomach, the force sending Rhys swinging, feet struggling to get purchase on the smooth floor. Laughter rang around the coughing hostage, the strenuous position constricting his chest and making it difficult to breathe.

Strong fingers grabbed his jaw, forcing Rhys to meet his tormentor’s gaze. BN smiled cruelly at him, grip on his jaw tightening to the point of pain. Cold steel trailed up his side, dancing lightly over his skin until it reached his cheek. Rhys couldn’t hold back his whimper of fear as the flat of the blade was tapped against already sore skin, staring pleadingly at BN.

The man chuckled darkly, twisting the blade so the tip pressed in just below his good eye, the gentle press growing in force until it just  _ barely  _ broke the skin. Rhys had gone deathly still, frozen in place as the knife cut in, not daring to shift and risk the dangerous point sinking into his eye.

Hot breath ghosted over Rhys’ cheek, a wet tongue poking out to drag up the side of his face, gathering up the few beads of blood that the tiny slice had produced. BN hummed to himself as he pulled bad, licking his lips and twirling the knife in his hand, “Taste as good as you look. Well, as good as you  _ used  _ to look.”

The door swung open so fast both BN and Rhys started, a scrawnier thug stepping in and locking eyes with the unbound man. “Dwight! There you are I’ve been looking for you!”  _ Dwight  _ turned and glared at his compatriot, obviously annoyed to have been interrupted, and perhaps on having his real name revealed. Rhys, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more relieved, slumping in his restraints the second the attention was off him. Though he wasn’t completely passive, snickering under his breath about what a wimpy name  _ Dwight  _ was. That earned him a jab to the ribs.

Worth it.

While tinier and (at least in Rhys’ book) less intimidating, the man stalked past Dwight with nothing more than a small huff in reaction to the bigger man’s glare. Rhys tried to turn and keep his eyes on the newcomer, but he disappeared behind him, his intentions became clear though when Rhys’ chain was released. 

Without the support holding him up, Rhys collapsed immediately, just enough sense left to throw his bound hands out, stopping his head from hitting the ground. The sudden shift in position had his head spinning, a muffled argument happening above him as Rhys struggled to muster the strength to stand. 

Whether he got that strength or not didn’t matter in the end as a hand hooked into the back of his shirt, dragging him across the floor and out into a dark hall. To his credit, Rhys did try to struggle at first, but he lacked the energy to keep it up for long. Eventually, he simply went limp, reluctantly allowing himself to be tugged along without resistance.

Somewhere along the line, he must’ve passed out, because when Rhys opened his eyes again it was to the sensation of being on his knees, hands retied behind his back, and a strip of duct-tape pressed over his mouth. Dwight stood to his right, a gun pressed to Rhys’ temple, while the tiny man from before stood on his left, arms crossed and foot tapping the ground like he was waiting for something.

It wasn’t just the two of them though, shuffling from behind alerted Rhys to the presence of at least 6 more thugs. Shifting uncomfortably on his knees, Rhys was rewarded with a cuff to the ear and a sharp order to be quiet and stay still. He complied if only to appease the men for the moment.

Hours seemed to pass before there was finally movement at the other end of what Rhys had realized was a landing bay on Helios. Around the corner came Handsome Jack himself, flanked by Nisha and Wilhelm, though they stayed at the edge of the bay while Jack alone walked up to the group. There was a briefcase in his hand, likely filled with the demanded 20 million, but Jack’s eyes never left Rhys.

Mismatched eyes swept over Rhys’ battered form, the rage in his eyes growing with every new injury he discovered. While Jack examined him, Rhys did the same back. He took note of all the little things, how there were the beginnings of bags under Jack’s eyes, visible even with the mask, how he winced a little with every step, how a slight limp had his right leg lagging behind, how his clothes were rumpled and his hair was unkempt.

Rhys noticed everything. His heart aching as he realized how worried and scared Jack truly was. Stopping a few feet away, Jack finally tore his eyes from Rhys, looking between Dwight and the scrawny man before setting the briefcase on the floor. “20 million.” His voice was rough, like he’d been screaming, or crying… “It’s all there. Now give him back.”

Dwight, the bastard, wagged a finger and smirked, “Ah ah ah! Show us it first.” The metal against Rhys’ skull pressed in harder, “Or I might have to skim a bit off the top. Maybe give him a new hairstyle? Do you think a buzz cut would suit him?”

Jack lifted his hands, sinking onto a knee to unlock the case, “Alright alright! I’ll open it, Jesus…” With the press of a few buttons and a grumbled insult, Jack opened the case, lifting the top to reveal it was filled to the literal brim with cash.

Dwight grinned wildly, a hand clamping down on the back of Rhys’ neck and hauling him to his feet. “Fuck yes! Close it and kick it over here, then you’ll get your twink.” Whimpering in pain, Rhys screwed his good eye shut, shaking weakly when the big man squeezed the back of his neck, almost massaging it in a way that had his stomach-churning.

He heard a kick and then he was being shoved forward, stumbling and tripping into warm waiting arms, a soothing voice whispering in his ear. “It’s okay, Rhys. It’s okay I’ve got you. You’re safe now, cupcake.” With a heavy, shuddering sigh of relief, Rhys slumped in Jack’s arms, almost missing it when the man hissed out an angry, but excited, “Now.”

Several shots rang out in succession, neat clean strikes that had body after body dropping quietly to the floor. In mere moments it was over, silence falling over the docking bay, bringing with it an air of finality. 

It was over. It was  _ over. _

“Nice work, Tim. Give the room one last sweep then come on down.” Jack shifted the shaking man in his arms, just enough to slip his arms underneath him. Standing with a grunt of effort, Jack cradled Rhys in his arms bridal-style, smiling softly despite himself when the tired kid rested his head on Jack’s chest.

Nisha and Wilhelm gave him silent nods as he walked out of the room, making sure he got out safely before moving in to clean up the mess. Jack was barely 5 steps down the hall when Tim burst through a side door, practically sprinting to Jack, wide worried eyes fixed on Rhys. 

“Is he?”

“He’ll be okay. At least physically..” Glancing down at the former hostage, Jack fought the urge to shudder when Rhys whimpered quietly. He had no idea what the bastards had done to his Rhysie, but he hoped they hadn’t done…. _ that. _

They wouldn’t know until Rhys was cared for and conscious though, so the first priority was getting him to a hospital. For once, Jack didn’t care in the slightest that Tim was clearly visible next to him as they rushed through the halls. To hell with people knowing he had body doubles, Rhys needed medical attention.

Nurses and doctors greeted them almost the moment they stepped through the door,  _ Wilhelm probably called ahead.  _ Rhys was on a stretcher and being wheeled away in seconds, leaving Jack and Tim standing alone in the waiting room. For a moment they both stood in silence, unsure of what to do, then a hand took Jack’s, fingers knitting with his own as Tim led them to a secluded corner. He sat them down quietly, thumb rubbing over Jack’s knuckles, the man staring ahead, at and  _ through  _ the wall. A single thought filled his mind.

_ Please let him be okay. _

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed this part! All that's left now is the recovery, which will be coming soon as one of the last days of Whumptober has the prompt of Recovery! Rhys is safe now, but who knows how badly he was traumatized by the violent kidnapping...
> 
> Kudos and comments make me smile every time~


End file.
